Beginners Keys
by bouncyflouncyboingboing
Summary: Perhaps one detail of an encounter can change the whole world it occurs in?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter: the First I shall disclaim that the songs used and also the Harry Potter franchise doo not belong to me, but rather their respective parties.  
>I'm sorry for the terrible name. Rated T for possible future events.<br>I sure hope this doesn't turn into K-on (Written to 'Heart and Soul', 'Where Is My Mind' by Yoav, and 'Tempest' by raincookie)

The tiny blonde boy with luminous grey eyes sat with his mother at their white grand piano. He would watch for hours as her hands would dance up and down the keys, and create beautiful music. Sometimes when he felt like a bit of variety he would dance, and if there were words they would sing together. He observed that when he played on the piano his hands didn't look the same and the sound wasn't the same either. One day his mother found him sobbing over it.  
>"Oh, honey," she said gently, holding him to her, filling his nose with that warm, comfy smell mothers have, you know the one "what's the matter?"<br>"I...I can't make i-it work!" he eventually managed to get out, between sobs. She assured him that it took her years to learn how to play. From that point on she would teach him how to play. When he went to school they fit it around that, and when he learned to read she taught him to read music. During that time they bought another piano for in his room, and often he would fall asleep at the keyboard. When he was only eight he had completely mastered the piano, even having written a few songs. He picked up the violin, but this affair was short lived. The piano was the only instrument for him.

Now I'm sure we all know who I'm talking about, cute, blonde and filthy rich fitting only beings I can think of, these being Richie Rich, and, the character in question, dear little Draco. Now as we all know eventually he had to leave his nest (though sooner than most children ever must, at the unripe age of 11) and fly. He had adored his mother more than both those disgusting muggle children he had to go to school with, and his fathers friends stupid children, who didn't seem capable of inteligent conversation, or thought, at all. This is why the obvious choice for who he would have spent his last days here with would have been his mother. However, his father who was almost never around, due to the work that bought his beloved piano, decided that maybe this was his last chance to spend time with his son, for months on end, which only suited him when it was on his terms, though neither he nor his wife told their son that this had been a decision made solely by the father, giving no consideration into the thoughts or feelings of anyone else, such as the son in question. Their trip to London was one where a heavy level of discomfort filled the atmosphere, and many awkward silences occured between the two, for though Draco loved to have his fathers money as a threat when people were unkind to him, the two barely shared a word, even at the best of times, and those barely there words were usually him keeping true on some of his threats, so people took them seriously. That is not to say he didn't love his father, he did. It's just he was furious that his mother wasn't the one seeing him off. Weren't he and she closer than he and his father had ever been? Though his father left him at Madame Malkins' to have his measurements taken he continued to be furious, at all parties involved including himself, for being so furious. He was so angry that he hardly noticed the boy who came in after him, fully clad in muggle garb, and with the half giant groundskeeper from his future school. That was rather curious, because usually muggle children came with their parents. The thought occured to Draco that maybe this boy didn't have any parents. A pang of sympathy stabbed through his fury, for an instant, but this was washed away, when his racist tendencies kicked back in. Draco further observed the mysterious boy. His shocking green eyes twinkled, and a happy expression which made him look a little stupid was plastered on his face, under a shock of hair which begged him to comb it.  
>"Alright, dear, I think that will be a sufficient amount of measurements." Madame Malkins voice rang through his voice, bringing him back to Earth. He stepped off the pedestal where he was having his measurement only as he walked to the door did Draco realise he had been staring at the boy the entire time, wearing a scowl. Had he been anyone else he probably would have appologised on the spot, and completely changing the storyline. However he was a proud and secretly very shy boy and left, but not before he glanced at the log, to see the boys' name on the logging sheet on Madame Malkins desk<p>

2:15 - Rowan Tupperwalace 2:30 - Draco Malfoy 2:45 - Harry Potter 3:00 - Rina Pimms

That boy was Harry Potter? Draco had always thought him to be fictional, or at least an exageration, but not as far as Draco could tell was he either of these things.

Thus we come to the first, rather short, chapters end. Well, I'm still writing. And if you actually like this (which I hope you did), don't worry, I don't mind this so I'll keep writting 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Is my disclaimer still valid? I'm not sure, so I'll just say it still doesn't belong to me (except the name Rina Pimms. Might use that again). Also, I think it says in the actual story he was shopping with both of his parents, but I know neither of them were in the robe store.  
>(Written to (( .comwatch?v=jCuzDVmH7lw&list=FLeI9-JX5J5xU&index=6 )), 'To you, Dear' from .hack/GU, a song from Ar Tonellico, Atoli from .Hack G.U., and some of Jessicas' crap music)

Draco left the shop to find his father waiting outside, holding quills, ink, parchment, and all matter of other boring things for which Draco did not care very highly. "All done here, for the moment?" he didn't say it as if it were a question, and knew the answer. Why was it adults asked questions they already knew the answers to. It seemed more than a little bit pointless. As he and his father walked past the music store, he stalled, and gazed through the window. Though this was a world he had grown up in, and very little of it really interested him anymore, that store was always his favorite part of the street. It was probably because there were things there that he doubted most people in the street had ever heard of or seen. Other than self-tuning instruments of almost every variety, Piano to harp, violin to glass armonica, and just about everything between. There were instruments which taught the user how to play them, and instruments which played themselves, gloves which made it so your hands didn't grow tired so you could play for a very long time, and not stop. Many of these things you had to special order but he didn't doubt they were worth both the money and the wait. There were also shelves full of musical scores, many of them with magical capabilities, some of them claiming to do impossible things at the hands of a skilled player, such as bring people back from death, or turn enemies into stone (the second of which Draco was too worried to try in fear of the repercussions). Across the floor there was a huge floor keyboard. If it had been powered by electricity it would have seemed a very muggle thing, but it was a real piano, built into a platform on the floor. The owner was very nice. He wasn't sure of her lineage, but he didn't really mind for her. She was an exception to the rule, as long as his parents never knew. His father pulled him along.

"Come, Draco." He didn't have even an ounce of anger in his voice, but this was a face he kept, and knowing how his father became when he didn't do what he wanted, he complied.

"Yes, father." He said. They walked along the road in silence, and collected their pre-bundled books from the store.  
>"Your robes won't be ready for a while. Why don't we get some ice-cream?" His father smiled at him as he said this. It was rather a rare thing to see a smile which wasn't meant to say "I'm going to destroy you" plastered across that face. Once again it wasn't a question.<p>

"Alright." he said, shrugging his shoulders. He didn't mind getting ice-cream anyway. Lucius got his usual two scoop, one coconut, one key lime, so as to display his pride as a Slytherin. Draco got grape jelly, and frozen custard in a waffle cone, with liquorish sprinkles. He didn't have a house to be patriotic of. They sat in silence, for a fair while, and ate their ice-cream.

"I know we don't get to talk often, but you've grown up to be quite the man. I'm very proud of you for everything." though the melting rate of the ice-cream was half as fast as if it were muggle ice-cream, it was a particularly hot day, and as he spoke to Draco, Draco watched a drop get dangerously close to his fathers gloves "Dad! Your ice-cream!" he cried, pointing. From that point on until they finished they both ate.  
>"We should be heading back to collect your robes." his father said. Draco nodded, and they walked that way.<p>

Harry Potter was just finishing having his measurements taken by the time they arrived. Draco met eyes with him for a moment, and Harry smiled politely to break the awkward tension. Draco begrudgingly returned this smile. "Ah, Mister and Mister Malfoy." said Madame Malkins as she noticed them there "I shan't be a moment. Mister Potter, I think that should be sufficient." Harry left and Draco walked over to Madame Malkin with his father to collect and pay for his uniform, watching as Hagrid and Harry rounded a corner. He looked so very happy. As if it were a special day. For Draco it was just school shopping day. Not that exciting.  
>"Alright Draco," said his father, again pulling him along with nothing but his words.<p>

Most of the remainder of the day was uneventful. If it was his mother they would have gone to the music store as soon as they were done with the essential shopping, but he and his father just went to the hotel across the street from the train station. It was purely for convenience that they stayed here. Anyone else would be more than happy there, but Draco found the bed and pillows foreign to him not to his taste.  
>"Disgusting muggles." said his father, for the millionth time. This was, after all, a muggle establishment, and had it not been for the necessity to be here they wouldn't be. Still, he had to make the best of this undesirable development, and so nestled into the blankets, and hugged Blanche, a toy sheep made by his grandmother, and everything felt alright. Tomorrow, his life would begin!<p>

Okay, this did take me a while, and I'm sorry, but hey, it's done now, ain't it? :P 


End file.
